


drenched by rain

by cassandor



Series: the moment flowers bloom [5]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Whumptober 2019, everyone just needs a good cry and a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandor/pseuds/cassandor
Summary: When droplets grow too heavy for clouds to carry, it rains.





	drenched by rain

**Author's Note:**

> Fills a variety of Whumptober 2019 prompts but inspired by "tear-stained". Yes, it's more than a month late.

Jyn jabs the keypad with her finger. She shifts the weight of her bag on her shoulder, an impatient huff escaping her lips. It only takes a few seconds for the door to slide open with a pneumatic hiss. Even that instant feels far too long. Every step she's taken over the past few days has brought her closer to this moment, each step seemingly longer than the rest. The jammed lock on Cassian's creaky door is the last thing between them, and thus, it bears the full brunt of her irritation.

Granted, having the passcode made the whole process quicker than slicing it. Even if it means Jyn misses the look on Cassian's face when he walks in on her napping in his bigger, softer bed. 

The train of thought fades away as she steps across the threshold. Her bag claims the nearest spot of floor with a thunk. Faded memories whisper in Jyn's ear: in most galactic households, some sort of greeting would've crossed her lips. A two word phrase presses against the back of her teeth.

_I'm home._

But this isn't a home carved out by loving hands. It's a home only by virtue by the man living in this tiny square of pressurized space. And, to be honest, the bed that beckons with its warm embrace far superior to every hard floor she's slept on for the past standard week. Yes, a short mission, a blink of an eye compared to the years she spent out on her own, but in a galaxy where planets disintegrate at a single command, seconds matter. 

She smiles at the sight of Cassian. He's sitting at his desk, most of his features hidden in profile. Cassian's history with the Rebellion - his skills - meant they were willing to do almost anything to keep him active. So he was allocated a desk and a chair when most beings of Cassian's rank wouldn't. Not with the scarcity of resources.

He's already looking in her direction when she says his name. Which is unsurprising, considering all the noise she'd entered with. Still, it's nice to feel the echoes of his name in her mouth.

"Jyn," he replies without missing a beat. Yes, this is their own, unique greeting, weightier than any other. She flashes a smile at him then ducks to unlace her boots. She hears a faint sniff. 

"They're keeping you busy," she says to her feet. 

"Mmm. I guess." Jyn hears the faint thump of Cassian setting his datapad on the table, then the squeak of his chair scraping across the floor. "You're back early." 

She toes off one boot. "Yeah, mission went smoother than expected." Her smile returns with a stronger indent on her cheek. "A first." She grabs Cassian's bed for support and yanks off the other boot.

Cassian's collection of footwear is neatly lined up against the wall beside the door. There's a space between the pair he uses daily and the rest of them. Reserved just for her, undisturbed even after a week. Jyn shoves her discarded boots into the spot with a swift push of her foot.

Dusting her hands on her knees, Jyn stands. Her gaze finds Cassian's face, line of sight shifting upwards as he stands. A touchstone of sorts. The lines of his face are prominent today, exaggerated even more by the stark glow of the recessed light above his work table.

"Are they keeping you up reading reports again? Are _you_ keeping yourself up reading reports again?" 

Cassian shakes his head slowly, head tilted down towards her. Overgrown locks of hair fall in his face. "No. Just... absorbed in my reading." He scrubs his face with both hands, pushing the hair back behind his ears. Jyn resists the twitch of her hands aching to do it for him. Instead, she snorts.

"What, an inventory list?" She purses her lips. "A weather report for Hoth? A U-wing manual?" She steps forward with every question, crossing the short distance between them with twice the steps it would take Cassian. "Actually, kark it, the copilot's seat's too high for me anyways," Jyn muses. She pauses, gauging the tilt of Cassian's unimpressed expression. "Wait, no, you were totally reading one of Kes' illicit romance novels! I knew it! I knew you were a sap at heart-" 

Jyn never really expects Cassian to react to her jabs in the way other beings do. But to her, the slightest twitch of his lips, or the widening of his eyes, a short quip in the rustle of his sarcasm, all of these mean more to her than a saccharine grin. Some might consider this a concession to a tragic reality. Maybe Cassian's expressions are colourless compared to Bodhi's echoing laughs or Shara's knowing winks. But to Jyn, it's who Cassian is. Who_ they_ are. And this sure knowledge of their identities is the most valuable thing she's ever been given in this lifetime after Scarif. 

His eyes are uncharacteristically out of focus, bringing an emotion swelling out of Jyn's chest. She scrapes her lips with her teeth, uneasy. 

They seem to be looking over her shoulder. A flash of recognition. Jyn turns to the bag she'd unceremoniously plopped on his floor, thinking to put it somewhere more respectable. But she's stilled by a warm press on her forearm. Jyn swivels, following Cassian's gentle grip. Back to him, like rain curving down the surface of a leaf. 

"I missed you."

Jyn peers between the strokes of his dark eyelashes, pulled there by a question she doesn't know how to ask. He's looking at her like she might disappear into thin air. Not quite a sense of urgency - his hold on her is light - but there's a need there, and not the kind she's used to seeing. "Really sappy," Jyn murmurs, but her voice is soft now, not teasing. Cassian's hand moves away, warmth disappearing from her skin. She flips her hand, catching his. "I missed you too."

Cassian laces their fingers together, gaze downcast. His shirt is rolled up to his elbows, and the collar is rumpled, as if he'd been wearing the same shirt for a while. Or if he'd just gotten out of bed. Her thumb idly runs across his knuckles as she observes him. "Are you taking a deep cover mission?" she asks quietly. She's disappointed, not at him, but for him. Jyn always misses him when he's in the field, but she misses him even more when he comes back from a deep cover. He'd be physically with her, and yet, the Cassian-shaped hole in her life would feel unfilled. She'd miss his accent, his stubble, the warmth in his eyes- everything that made Cassian _Cassian _and not whoever he'd been for the past few months.

Those days where Cassian was still scrubbing ghosts out of his eyes were the worst. 

Cassian shakes his head, stepping closer to close the gap between them. His other hand reaches up to cradle her face, thumb skimming over her temple. "I wasn't picturing an interrogation when you got back."

"I didn't expect you to look like bantha," she murmurs. Jyn tilts her face up with the press of Cassian's thumb. Asking.

He sighs. Then he does the unexpected.

Cassian leans forward and tucks his face into her shoulder. Jyn responds immediately, dropping her hands and moving to cradle the back of his head. "Cassian?"

He buries his face against her even further in response. His mouth brushes over her shoulder, and his arms cross the small of her back, pulling her in. Only then does she feel him trembling. 

"What's wrong?"

Hugging him tightly, with his breathing pushing against her chest like this, usually makes Jyn feel good. She should feel suffocated by their difference in height. Even now, the thought of small spaces claws her heart out of her chest. But no matter what mood she's in, Cassian can only ever feel like safety. In a way only a home could be, for most beings. For her, homes were never safe. But Cassian is.

This safety isn't breached by the tremors in Cassian's grasp. But it still means something. 

Cassian sighs, the breath warm against her skin, but it feels too much like a restrained whimper.

"Do you remember the tower?" His voice is a barely audible whisper. If his quarters were as loud as hers, with personnel passing by and the air circulators on full blast, she wouldn't have heard him. Jyn feels every syllable, though. Even if Cassian's jaw hadn't brushed her as he'd spoken. Jyn doesn't have to ask _what tower?_ If she closes her eyes, made all the easier by the lull of Cassian's embrace, the memory comes to her instantly.

Cassian falling. His name tearing out of her throat. 

Her hands instinctively slide down his back, fighting the twitch of her hands as they yearn to let go. She didn't then, and she won't now. Jyn feels for the bumps of Cassian's spine, soothing them both with her touch. His scars lie hidden under his shirt but in her mind's eye they're crystal clear. 

"Yes," she murmurs, cheek against his. "I do."

Cassian brings his hands up and rests his palms against her shoulderblades. She feels his fingers dig into the thin fabric of her shirt. He's fighting something. By the time Jyn thinks of the question, she realizes the answer.

He's trying to tell her what's wrong. His instincts are getting in the way. No, his training. His instinct is to hold her. His training - well, Jyn had a similar experience with Saw. Years later she still tires out poor Cassian by refusing to confide in him. So it was no stretch of the imagination for Cassian to feel the same way. 

He has to overcome it. Jyn adjusts her grip on him and calls on every memory of her parents for support. No - every memory of Cassian. She feels the strain of her shirt pulled taut in Cassian's tightening grip. Softly, she tells him it's okay, over and over again, just like he does when she's haunted by memories of her parents. 

A breath escapes him with a hiss, drawn jagged with a shudder.

"That's how my Mama died."

Jyn's breath stills in her lungs. Falling.

She could only imagine how terrified Cassian must have been on the way down, tumbling to his mother's fate. He'd earned the name of level headed. Fearless, even. He'd earned it, yes, but it was not the whole truth. He was capable, and brave, but neither meant he was fearless.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles into his ear.

"No," he breathes, "it was my fault." It's quiet, and Cassian's silent enough she could miss the sound of something in him shattering. She'd missed it on Eadu. She can't afford to miss it now. 

"What happened?"

"She-she was there, but I couldn't reach the blaster in time. And then she was gone." The last word is choked out, replaced by something in Festian that Jyn can barely unearth from the thickness of his voice. Something about blood and snow. Like everything was, on Fest. Her mind skitters in the direction of his fragmented admission. She reigns it in to the sound of his breaths drawing more frequently. More shallow. He's fighting hard, Jyn can tell, brave man, but fighting a losing battle.

"It's okay," she tells him, "you need to let go."

Jyn cards one hand through his hair, smoothing out each shudder, and does her best not to think about what she hears, or the dampness she feels spreading on her shoulder. He doesn't want her to see. But the need for privacy hasn't outweighed his desire for her to be with him.

Maybe he feels safe with her, too. 

_The tower._ She thought he'd meant his fall - after all, that was what plagued _her_ memories. But he'd meant her faceoff with Krennic. It had all happened too quickly for her to process, and it was her least revisited memory from Scarif. More important things had happened on that tower.

Jyn reaches for the memory now, with her hands still stroking Cassian's back.

He'd pulled the blaster on her so quickly. She had no idea what to do. She crouched, of course, ready to lunge, no matter how futile. But she hadn't needed to. Cassian, with his blaster, had saved her. He'd come back from the dead to save her. The relief she'd felt in that moment was all for him. Every time she thinks of it, she swells with relief. _He'd survived. He's alive. _

But now she knows Cassian sees it differently. Relief, maybe, but a tainted sort of relief, the kind he's experiencing with her now. A shattered kind, filled by the rawness of human emotion. _She's alive. He hadn't failed. _

Jyn wonders if he has nightmares where he fails to save her. Where his blaster is out of reach but she bleeds out in front of his eyes. Maybe it was one such dream that had woke him tonight, why he was up for her surprise arrival. Maybe. Maybe not. He doesn't tell her. He might not, ever. He doesn't have to. It doesn't matter how old he was when he'd reached for that blaster. The only thing she needed to know was that he was haunted by failure. Wouldn't anyone be? Isn't he always?

She sighs, moving with Cassian as they begin to sway. 

Cassian has told her one thing. He needs this. Her.

It's all she needs to know.

Jyn presses her face to his, still grasping the back of his head. Her lips don't touch him. Instead, her forehead grazes his. She holds them there for a moment, every breath another reassurance. Her eyes flutter shut, mirroring Cassian's closed eyes. They breathe together until Cassian's breathing evens. 

She pulls away, intending to say something, but the hair in her face is still warm from Cassian's skin. The ghost of warmth makes her miss the contact. Her eyes fall shut again as the bridge of her nose skims over his, the wetness of his cheek hot against her skin. Then they're locked together, her mouth angled away from his. Jyn kisses him once, there, on his cheek, softly but with a strength that leaves an imprint on the air flattened out from between them, a gentle squelch that would've elicited a chuckle on a better day. She tastes the saltiness of tears. 

The sole source of light is the recessed panel above Cassian's desk, so when he pulls away all Jyn can see is the outline of his silhouette and the glimmer on his cheeks. Then Cassian swipes his face with the curve of his elbow, and then that too, is neatly tucked away as a splotch on his shirt. 

He's gazing at her again. Jyn supposes his eyes might be reddened, cheeks flush, but she can't tell. Not when the warmth in his gaze creeps up her collar. There are no remnants of the passing storm except the dampness on her shoulder. She doesn't know what to say, only loops her arms around his waist, and rests her cheek on his chest.

"Kay wasn't much of a hugger," Cassian says, finally.

She smiles, peering up at him. "I'm surprised you let him try."

He sighs. "I didn't have much of a choice." Another memory flickers in the tightening of his jaw.

Kay loved him, if droids could love. The droid's protectiveness wasn't mere programming. Besides, Jyn knew the rumors. _The droid isn't reprogrammed. It defected. _Based on what she'd seen of Kay - of Cassian - she could believe it. He'd been willing to die for Cassian. So it wouldn't be improbably for a security droid to learn to give hugs. Or at least, attempt to. 

"Good." 

She's drawn to Cassian's lips when they twitch. Jyn whispers a soundless thanks to Kay for being there for Cassian for so long. Her thumb reaches up to trace circles on the back of Cassian's neck, thinking of how he'd tapped Kay's chassis. She's the one watching out for Cassian, now. 

Cassian leans forward again, but this time his lips connect with hers. She kisses back with force, grounding him to her, this moment. They move together, headed nowhere. He traces the lines of her mouth with his thumb, revealing where the lines fall when she smiles. As she does now, her skin curving under his path. Then her lips part, and Cassian steals her breaths for his own lungs. She doesn't mind. 

The taste of salt dwindles to nothing. 

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly write Jyn getting comforted so I decided to flip the script. Let men cry (in a healthy way obviously)! Also, it's underrated how much Kay has seen Cassian go through.


End file.
